


Earning It

by shipples



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodyguard abusing his power, Bottom Jensen, Derogatory Language, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Paddling, Spanking, Verbal Abuse, whipping with a belt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:25:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipples/pseuds/shipples
Summary: If he wants to go out in public with Jared, Jensen has to earn it from the man who's supposed to be their bodyguard.





	Earning It

It’s time again.

Jared’s filming late, he’ll still be several more hours.  They part on set with a quick mingling of fingers.  “See you at home later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Jensen smiles as he leaves.  He’s an actor, after all.  He can even fool Jared when he absolutely needs to.  Jared gives him a little wave from the door of the house where they’re filming today and sticks out his tongue.  He’s in a happy, silly mood because of what’s coming up this weekend.  Which is great.  But Jensen has to go and earn it now.

He sits beside Clif in the front of the car as usual.  There’s no music.  They don’t talk.  They never do on these nights.  If Jensen attempted to say anything he’d erupt with fury and that is not helpful.  He needs to remain calm.  Blank.  Not let Clif see how much this gets to him.  

They go to Clif’s apartment.  Jensen doesn’t want this infecting the space he shares with Jared and that was the biggest argument he’s had with Clif, who tried to insist it needs to be done there, but Jensen put his foot down, that wasn’t part of the deal.  The deal is him, his body, his submission.  Because Clif wants him badly enough, he eventually agrees.

Jensen showered before leaving set.  His excuse was mud from a fight scene, but really he needed to prepare his body.  He has a system: remove all traces of Jared before going with Clif, then later he eliminates every sign of Clif before returning to Jared.  He wears the cologne Clif gave him for Christmas several years ago, the cologne Clif says makes him smell delicious, and he stretches himself as much as he dares without Clif noticing. 

Clif has no idea that Jensen solely tops with Jared. 

There’s a reason he never bottoms with the man he loves.  Bottoming, for Jensen, has nothing but horrific connotations of non-consensual bribery and force.  He will never taint Jared with that, and fortunately Jared prefers to bottom and on the rare occasion he wants to fuck something with his cock he’s perfectly happy to thrust down Jensen’s throat.  Jensen has bad connotations with that too, but he can’t deny Jared everything, that could lead to too many questions that he can’t answer and he would slit his throat before letting Jared find out what he’s done for them.

What he does for them.

As soon as they enter the apartment, Jensen strips.  He knows the drill, and it goes worse for him if Clif has to remind him. 

It’s just a body.  Just a body he’s using to accomplish something.  He earns a living with his body, after all.  This isn’t that different. 

It doesn’t need to touch him.

Not where it matters.

While Clif bustles about making preparations, Jensen assumes the position Clif requires, legs spread, arms crossed behind his neck, in the middle of the living room.  He’s on display, but it’s no worse than an audition.  At least there’s no one else here. 

Once he’s ready, Clif settles down on the sofa with a can of beer directly in front of Jensen.  “Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” he says, greedy eyes raking up and down Jensen’s naked body.  “Fucking unfair that you’re nearly 40 and you look like this.  So smooth.  So soft.  Hairless, Jensen, like a little boy.  That’s what you are, aren’t you?  Just a little boy trying to play with the grownups.  But you’re a naughty boy.  A naughty boy who wants to do naughty things.  Do you know what happens to naughty little boys, Jensen?”

Enduring Clif’s inane speeches is one of the most trying aspects of this whole affair but he doesn’t dare let his scorn show on his face or in his voice.  Instead he delivers his predetermined lines with respect.  “They get punished.”

“Yes.”  Clif draws out the word.  “Naughty little boys like you get punished.  So tell me, little boy, what do you need to be punished for today?”

“I want to go out with Jared the night before the convention on Sunday.”

“Hmm.”  Heaving himself forward, Clif leans closer to Jensen.  “And why should I let you do that?”

“Because I’m here,” Jensen says.  They go through this every time and he knows his words, but it’s still difficult to get them out.  “Because I’m offering myself to you for punishment so I can be seen with Jared in public.”

“What exactly are you offering?”

“I’m offering you my ass.  To beat a-and to fuck.” 

“Turn around.”

Jensen obeys.  He feels thick fingers prod his ass cheeks and sucks in his breath, bracing himself for what comes next.

“Bend over and show yourself to me.”

Every time, every fucking time his face gets hot with humiliation when he bends and pulls his cheeks open with his hands for Clif to inspect his asshole.  It should get easier with repetition, should lose its potency, but it never does.  Each time feels like the first and he swallows hard to prevent a whimper.  That’s not acceptable yet.

Clif’s nails are too long as he pokes at Jensen’s hole.  It hurts, but he manages not to cry out. 

“You offering me this hole, boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You think this hole is enough to earn you what you want from me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You gonna be a good little hole for me, Jensen?”

He loathes that phrase with a passion, his entire existence reduced to no more than his fuckhole.  Too many people see him like that, can’t see the man he is because all they can see is sex when they look at him, and here it’s blatant and stark.  This is all he has to offer, the only way he can earn a smidgen of freedom for himself and Jared.  By no longer being a man; just being a hole.

“Yes, sir, I’ll be a good hole for you.”

Clif taps his hole a couple of times then smacks his hand down hard between Jensen’s cheeks.  The pain reverberates up his spine and he struggles to stay on his feet.  But he promised to be a good hole and part of that is remaining in place for Clif to abuse.  If he pulls away, Clif might see it as a violation of terms and deny his request for Saturday night, and Jensen very badly wants Saturday night with Jared.

He endures several more harsh slaps directly to his hole before he hears Clif haul himself to his feet.  “Right, Jensen, you’ve convinced me.  Come bend over the sofa.”

Letting go of his cheeks, he doesn’t straighten as he shuffles around to place his hands flat on the sofa cushions.  This helps, gives him some support.  God knows he’s gonna need it.

As always, Clif starts with his belt.  There’s the ominous swish as he pulls it from his trousers and Jensen deliberately breathes out so he has no breath to scream when the first lash hits him.  It’s hard tonight, extra hard, possibly because he’s asked again so soon.  The belt lays into him viciously, and although he bites his lip until he tastes blood in order to keep from crying out, he knows Clif wants to hear him, wants the audible proof of how badly Jensen’s hurting.  It’s counterproductive, but Jensen can never make himself give Clif the satisfaction until he can’t prevent it any longer.  No doubt it prolongs his agony, but it’s not in him to go down without a fight. 

Tonight he holds it in for longer than usual.  He can take this, damn it.  Despite what Clif says, he’s not a boy, he’s a man, a big, strong man who can take a shitload of pain without making a sound.

“What are you, boy?” 

The question comes after he’s survived more than 20 lashes in silence.  He should have known Clif wouldn’t let him get away with it.  “I’m a hole,” he gasps out.

The belt slashes down.  “What kind of hole are you?”

“I’m—”  Another slash.  “—a good hole.”  And another.  “Please, sir, I’m a good hole for you.”

“Do good holes withhold their reactions when they’re punished?”  Two in rapid succession right where his ass meet his thighs. 

Shit, this is seriously not fair and Jensen chokes on a scream.  “No, sir.”

Two more in the same place.  “So what should a good hole do for me, Jensen?”

He screams.  Defences annihilated by simple words, Jensen screams as Clif lays down the blows across his ass and upper thighs.  Clif soundproofed his apartment a long time ago for precisely this reason, so Jensen doesn’t have to worry about the amount of noise he makes, he can just let it all out. 

When the screams finally turn to helpless sobs, Clif stops.  Jensen remains in place, ass burning, crying uncontrollably now.  This is how Clif wants him, this is where Clif always ensures they get to. 

“Ready for the paddle now, boy?”

“Yes, sir.”  His voice is broken, he sounds like the little boy Clif insists he is.  “Please paddle me.”

The paddle is a different kind of pain to the belt.  Clif uses a big one, drilled through in several places for extra speed, and each blow covers Jensen’s entire backside, pushing him up onto his toes with its force.

Clif used to make him count these, but recently he’s preferred to hear Jensen sob throughout.  It’s a relief because he doesn’t have to think, he can lose himself inside the blazing fire.  The world ceases to exist.  Even Jared is driven from his mind.  His awareness shrinks to the pain exploding across his ass, his trembling muscles’ attempts to hold him up, the sounds of his agonised shrieks. 

Clif beats him for a long time.  He’s relentless.  Wants to break Jensen completely.

When the paddle finally stops, Jensen’s a wreck, sobbing like the little boy Clif says he is.  He has no strength left, no fight.  No pride.

“What are you, Jensen?”

“I’m a hole for you, sir.”  The words are garbled.

“What kind of hole?”

“I’m a good little hole for you, sir.”

“Right, now it’s time for you to prove just what a good little fuckhole you can be for me.”

He’s hurting so much he barely feels it as Clif pushes into his hole.  His muscles are beaten loose and unresisting and the fullness hardly registers until Clif starts to pound him.  Like the belting, he’s doing it extra hard tonight and it takes Jensen a few minutes too long before he registers that Clif wants him to keep crying out loud.

It’s the same fucking battle as before now that he’s had a moment to collect himself after the beating and it’s only when Clif deliberately angles at his prostate that he lets the first moan escape him. 

“That’s it, boy,” Clif approves.  “Feeling good?”

“Yes, sir,” Jensen whimpers.  It does, and this is what he hates most.  “Please, sir, don’t.”

“Don’t?”  Clif slams his hips against Jensen’s beaten ass, targeting his prostate again.  “But this is your reward for being such a good fuckhole.”

“No,” Jensen sobs as pleasure lightnings through him.  “No, please.”

“No?”  Several more brutally hard thrusts.  “I’ll give you a choice this time, boy.  Either you can let me make you feel good and then when we both finish this is over, or once I come then the handle of the paddle’s going up your hole and I’ll fuck you with that while you jerk yourself off.”

How is that a choice?  He has to come either way and that’s what he doesn’t want to do.

“So either you come on my cock like a good little hole should, or you make yourself come on the paddle.”

He can’t remember how big the handle of the paddle is, and Clif’s constant slamming into him makes it hard to think.  But, surely, anything is better than the humiliation of coming on Clif’s cock alone. 

“Paddle,” he whispers.  “Please let me come on the paddle.”

It’s a choice he rues the moment Clif starts working it into him.  Despite the lube and the slimy mess of Clif’s come in his hole, the wooden handle feels like a rough grater against his abused flesh.  It’s nearly twice the width of Clif’s cock—and he hadn’t thought about length, because, fuck, that thing pushes far higher into him than anything ever has before, feels like it’s splitting him in half right the way through his stomach.  It is, oh fuck, it IS. 

Once it’s in him, Clif pauses.  “How’s that feel, boy?  You like having a piece of wood jammed up your ass instead of my dick?”

“H-hurts.”

“Good.”  Clif slaps his ass hard.  “Now get your hand on your cock and I’m going to start fucking it in and out of you.  I stop when you come, so you’d better get a move on.”

The pain is too much.  There’s no way he can get aroused with his insides being dragged right out of him then smashed back in.  He should’ve taken the humiliation of coming on Clif’s cock.  Next time.  Next time he’ll beg for it. 

He doesn’t know how to turn himself on other than by thinking of Jared.  It’s the last thing he wants to do, to defile Jared by bringing him into this sordid mess, but Jared’s the only thing that will make him come since Clif is deliberately avoiding his prostate now, giving him no physical help whatsoever. 

Jared.

Jared and his sunshine.

Jared with his glorious smile and mischievous eyes and delighted fervent love for Jensen.

He pictures Jared here, beneath him on the sofa, teasing Jensen with his mouth, that talented tongue of his, those strong white teeth nipping and nibbling…..

It works.

It still takes too much time of him being fucked raw by the paddle, but eventually his belly tightens and he spills all over his hand.

Clif gives him a few extra jabs, then jerks the wood out of Jensen’s ass.  “Lick that up,” he orders, “then get out of here.  You have your date night.”

And that makes everything worth it. 


End file.
